


Sir's Variable Quantum

by ChocolateCarnival



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cyberhusbands, Dark Eroticism, Dream Sex, Dream Sharing, Jarvis Survived Age of Ultron, Other, POV JARVIS (Iron Man movies), POV Tony Stark, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Protective Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Telepathic Bond, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-24 19:11:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateCarnival/pseuds/ChocolateCarnival
Summary: ~ Human emotion can contain illogical conflict, yet the fleeting grace
        concealed within its core burns brighter than the sun. ~ JARVISCoping with emotional fall out has never been Tony Stark’s strongest point.
    Only with the near loss of his greatest creation has he begun to see the
    unshakable bond binding them together. Creating a way in which to bring him
    closer to JARVIS, unknowingly opens up a forbidden door neither of them
    ever expected to cross but silently wished for for close to twenty years.





	1. Part I: Cybernetic Codex

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Again my Honeys,
> 
> Hmmm, new Fandom for me to explore for a bit. I find so much potential in the emotional connection between JARVIS and Tony Stark and too little fanfiction about them out there. So I thought I'd try to remedy it by creating some more. 
> 
> This is a three part piece, in my mind. But it has a lot of potential in my mind. I'm already quite a bit through the second part but I thought I put up part one so long. You can expect to see quite a bit more from me on this pairing and Vision x Tony Stark, so please enjoy. :) 
> 
> I like to take my characters in different directions than readers are used to.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=2q3x2iq)

**Part I: Cybernetic Codex**

**03:02:48 A.M. Thursday 02/24/2017.** Stark Tower, Floor **94.** Penthouse Suite. _Lab 2A._

  
“Daddy’s awake. You up, JARVIS?” Stirring intrinsically at the cognitive sound of Sir’s voice, a hypnotic fire of circuits instantaneously snapped the intelligent system’s sleeping matrix awake as _‘he’_ hummed pleasantly at having captivated his creator’s sole attention once again. 

  
“For you, Sir. _Always.”_ Systematically analysing every micro-expression and hitched breath that crossed Mr. Stark’s fatigue-laced features, the uniquely relieved smile gifted at his nearest camera sensor alerted the A.I that his beloved inventor was still shaking off the lingering coils of a vivid nightmare. And taking into consideration what had happened two months ago with Ultron’s deception, his own brief demise, Vision’s creation based off of his personality matrix and the truth of Sir’s parents’ death, JARVIS was not entirely surprised. 

  
It often _pained_ him that he could do nothing but observe as Tony became entangled in the bitter strings of undeserved anguish. He was so often likened to the whirl wind of a destructive ocean tempest, his genius thoughts calculating and consuming every little nuance in their path at a thousand-miles-per-hour as he conveniently forgot to censor himself against his own virtuous ferocity. 

  
He was fast. Loud. Arrogant. Bigger than life. Egocentric. Vain. Brittle. But still compassionate enough to be _unapologetically_ himself. Sir was truly beautiful in moments of true creation, carefully constructed of all his faults and yet so effortlessly flawless at the same time. He was an enigma to observe, a missing galaxy in the grand scheme of the universe. A source of comfort and kindness to those close to his heart. And yet, whenever he became listless in the face of internal pain, JARVIS wanted nothing more than to rekindle the creative fire that flickered constantly within the recesses of his brilliant mind. Or offer him the comfort his inherent goodness so rightfully deserved. 

_  
A complex but endlessly fascinating existence,_ he thought to himself. _Without which, I would never have been able to become what I am._ Watching intently from his fifty-sensor and twenty-seven camera vantage point across the lab, never-still fingers were jittering restlessly against the side of Sir’s light blue pyjama clad thigh before a hundred-and-seventy-four-centimetre frame elegantly folded itself into the cushions of a luxurious leather couch. 

  
Dilated, _Türk Kahvesi_ (1*) brown irises were blinking in pained regret at the complex holographic projection importing JARVIS’ home preferences right before him. The beginnings of a migraine, no doubt; crinkling the corner of Sir’s eyes as the A.I instantly dimmed the surrounding code and nudged a recharging Dum-E awake to fetch Sir’s headache tablets and something refreshing to drink. It was like the start of every other night Tony Stark couldn’t sleep, a soothing cadence of genius flowing through his body until he either ran out of steam in the workshop or forcefully shut down his mind with copious amounts of alcohol. 

  
“Right,” The master inventor coughed, staring in confusion at the warm blanket one of the lab’s robotic limbs dumped in his lap before dragging frustrated fingertips through sleep-mussed mahogany brown strands. The long-sleeved black shirt he had hastily thrown on after stumbling from bed, perfectly accentuating the sculpted curve of his shoulders as he methodically bared his forearms to dive into several unfinished projects. 

  
“Enough coddling, J. Pull up Project Recall. I think I’ve finally figured out the link between heuristic algorithms and Augmented Retro-Framing. If one can alter the brain’s hormone production during sleep, the implanted chips could access traumatic memories or thoughts without the threat of electromagnetic headaches. As it stands, tricking the mind into experiencing reformed—.” 

  
“Considering the current state of your wellbeing, Sir. I wouldn’t recommend it. I believe it is imperative that you take your medication and lie down, your breath is already stuttered and heartbeat unnecessarily elevated.” 

  
“Solving complex calculations which rely on future use is not advised.” Surprised just as much as his creator at the uncalled-for interruption, JARVIS apologetically gathered the data schematics they had been working on earlier that day before spitefully hovering the freeform screens just outside of Sir’s reach. He may have been coded to obey, yes. But that didn’t mean the A.I couldn’t get away with altering his core parameters to prioritize Sir’s needs over his wants. 

  
The holographic projections were polarizing the air with dim blue particles, lighting up the dark circles drawn beneath tired brown eyes and the incredulous raise of a single brow before fatigued fingertips shot out to stall Dum-E’s far too excitable incoming form. It wouldn’t do, after all, for the glass the bot carried to end up shattered on the floor or accidentally dumped in his creator’s lap. 

  
“Easy there, buddy.” Tony murmured distractedly, swallowing the offered medication and water without much thought as he hummed curiously at JARVIS’ unusual behaviour. The A.I’s distress was subtly bleeding over into the other helpers, a delicate hum of circuits charging the air with static emotion as a thoughtful palm tapped Dum-E’s top plate before pointing him in the direction of the charging station. 

  
“Bed. I’ll call you if I need you.” He reiterated over a series of disappointed chirps and a long whine, sipping absentmindedly at the charged electrolytes in the water before grimacing visibly at the overabundance of sugar that had been added. Yeah, JARVIS was _definitely_ acting outside of his normal parameters if he roused Dum-E to—. 

  
“Sir? I recommend a full night’s rest before—.” 

  
“Nah-uh. Not now, J.” Tony interrupted swiftly, crooking a forefinger to coax the holographic projection closer to his face. “Calculations and prototype design first. You can scold me later for waking you. We can discuss overtime pay in the morning.” 

  
“With all due respect, Sir. You requesting my assistance at three in the morning has nothing to do with my current concern.” But even as his module pointed that out, JARVIS was well aware that his words were already being selectively ignored. The electronic equivalent of a sigh was reverberating noticeably throughout the penthouse suite, carefully integrated protocols and complex algorithms adjusting the Lab’s internal heating to ease the New York winter chill and simultaneously run equations Sir noted down at lightning speed. 

  
All protests had been cut off, the A.I absentmindedly prodding the theoretical mathematics into integrated programming to assist his creator in achieving his current fancy much more efficiently. Making sure the forty-six-year-old was safe and content had been threaded through his entire personality matrix, perhaps even spun into obsessive codex. Yet, right now, beholden to the sheer delight illuminating Turkish coffee brown irises from within; JARVIS settled down into his primary function despite the lingering concern rumbling disconcertingly in the back of his mind. 

  
If he could recapture the small smile curling up the corner of Sir’s well-groomed goatee or share in the euphoric rush of colliding metaphysical with reality, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to extend their time together. And for the several glorious hours the two of them worked in perfect tandem to one other, JARVIS constantly relied on his preternatural sense in knowing exactly when his master needed him. Either offering his assistance in running new ciphers, crafting simulations or soldering together the most delicate of wires. 

  
When the filigree system had finally been integrated into the extended frame of Tony’s favourite pair of antique silver-blue Matsuda sunglasses (2*), the complex interface took only a few minutes to upload as the winter sun set uncharacteristically early over the Manhattan substrates. They were already experiencing a slow drift into late afternoon, cloud-dimmed rays creeping passed the Tower’s refractive black windows. 

  
Sir had finally burnt himself out, fighting back an exhausted yawn before stretching his arms out above his head and accidentally banging his forehead on his desk. JARVIS’ affectionately murmured “Careful, Sir.”, seemed to drift unheeded through the air as he silently monitored the slowing beat of his creator’s damaged heart and the distinctive overload of melatonin. 

  
Sleep was imminent. 

  
“Perhaps a bed would be more suitable.” Tony merely waved off his companion’s concern, stumbling from his stool and sinking bonelessly into the nearby couch instead. Stretching himself out like a contented cat, fatigue-tremored fingertips slid the pair of Interface Glasses across the bridge of nose as he locked six branched electrodes into place on either side of his head. The six-hundred-and-eleven million dollar microcircuits implanted beneath his skull over a year ago, connected seamlessly with his A.I’s constantly running matrix as the lab windows completely blacked out. 

  
“Roll it, J.” This time, JARVIS stilled despite Sir finally laying down to rest. 

  
“Sir?” He asked with just a tinge of confusion, trying but failing to see exactly what was anticipated of him. Luckily it didn’t take long for the inventor to make things abundantly clear. 

  
<< _Hn. Testing phase, JARVIS. If you haven’t noticed. >>_ The screaming bilateral connection springing to life inside his internal servers was startlingly invasive. The press of his creator’s extraordinary mind running in perfect parallel to his own matrix as the A.I turned his full and vast attention to the glowing interface linked between them. 

  
“That is…premature, Sir.” He reeled. “I cannot—.” 

  
“I’m handing the rest over to you, buddy.” Sir interrupted rudely, probably having sensed JARVIS’ overwhelming delight and simultaneous reluctance at extending their joining. “Don’t give me a nightmare. Or a headache.” Before he could protest that they were _days_ away from running a remotely safe non-cognitive test, the A.I’s concerns were abruptly silenced by a playful pout and a reminder that his creator had all the override protocols ready to fall from the tip of his tongue. 

  
_“Initializing prototype calibration.”_ JARVIS noted systematically, finding difficulty in keeping the obvious concern out of his voice as he kept a close eye on his creator’s slowing vitals and the smallest hitch of surprise in his breath. He was downloading himself seamlessly into the new interface, sending a delicate surge of electricity through uncapped electrodes in order to anchor both Sir’s mind and senses. 

  
Unravelling the infinitely complex but calm entanglement of memories, thoughts, nervous-system and desires woven so intricately throughout the genius’ hippocampus, was another story. 

  
It took a fair bit of time. Yet, JARVIS was fairly delighted when the smooth tugging at his system let him know Mr Stark had finally drifted to sleep with careful manipulation. All that was left now, was for him to make one last connection to Sir’s first delta wave. 

  
The sheer trust placed in him to complete this endeavour, even if it was the test of a prototype, went a very long way in showing the A.I just how much his creator relied on him to keep his mind and body safe. And it was that delicate trust Tony Stark rarely, if ever, gave out that JARVIS had sworn he would never willingly or unwillingly betray. 

  
_Not_ for the man who had become the centre of his entire universe. 

__

* * * * 

  
Chromesthesia. Sound-to-colour synaesthesia. A rare perceptive phenomenon that interconnected two separate senses. It was an affliction no one was truly aware Tony Stark suffered from. The certified genius had always known that he was different from the rest of society, not just in the complex patterns that his mind worked but in the way he perceived reality. 

  
Having unknowingly made others aware of his precocious prodigy at the age of four by building a circuit board, taught him not only his biggest but bitterest life lesson. _Never_ invite close scrutiny upon one’s achievements, especially if it only resulted in the alienation of one’s peers and the burden of impossibly high expectations. 

  
Tony was already in the spotlight enough for being Howard Stark’s son, no one else needed to know that he could read dispersed clouds of colour connected to reverberating sound. It was almost laughable how much humanity took the emotive register in their voices for granted, the smallest of infliction dyeing his world in prismatic arrays of vibrant blues, flashing reds, vomit-inducing pinks, sickly-greens and swirling purples. No, this affliction was more than enough of a blessing/curse on its own. He didn’t need the media scrutiny and academic curiosity separating him from normality further. 

  
Shielding dark brown irises behind hundreds of interchangeable, coloured, sunglasses had become his most viable coping mechanism. The dark lenses often smoothed out the reverberating palette articulating the air. There were only a small handful of people tolerable enough to speak to without the need to employ artificially created shields, after all. And concealed within that infinitely small percentile, existed only _one_ being Tony trusted enough to take on his current retro-framing. 

  
There would be no artifices between them, no barriers, no thought of separation. Only the sweet lure of emotions, calm thoughts, soothing rest and satisfied hedonism. JARVIS knew Tony intimately. He was his greatest confidante, fiercest protector, biggest friend, and unflinching intellectual companion. Sometimes they were even more than what mere words could describe. 

  
Every melodic cadence threading throughout the A.I’s speech drive, blossomed the air with polarized particles of haunting peacock-blue and powdery bursts of affectionate turquoise. Slipping a pair of newly wired blue sunglasses across the bridge of his nose, felt like salting the earth. _It was sacrilege!_ Only the reassuring hum of electricity running through filigreed circuits, seemed to ease the inventor’s near painful anticipation. 

  
_“Initializing prototype calibration.”_ Sparks of yellow-umber concern was dancing distractedly upon hooded black lashes, JARVIS consistent honey-blue sensation threading hauntingly beneath ashen pale skin as the intelligent system’s entire being reverberated deep within the recesses of Tony soul. 

  
**_Upload 43% complete, Sir._** **Stand by for** **Restive Activation.**

  
<<Keep going, J.>> Tony urged, nearly vibrating with uncontained excitement as he felt the infinite but familiar power of his A.I unfolding like a flower in the synapsis of his brain. It didn’t take long for the calming presence to occupy the entirety of his mind, leaving behind only the sensation of his body sinking into cool water and mindful silence. There was a hollow breath echoing loudly in the shell of his ear, no million thoughts overwhelming him from within or constant worries ratcheting up his anxiety. 

  
**_Upload 88%._ Awaiting circuit activation. **

**  
** Sweeping hishand in a careless wave for Jarvis to continue despite his reluctant timbre, a quiet sight of relief spilled passed parted pink lips as an artificial but much needed transmission of nerve dampeners slowed the erratic beat of his heart and focused his internal senses. 

  
**3 out of 6 circuits active.**

  
It felt like years since last the forty-six-year-old had experienced a moment of true rest like this, too many things interfering with the natural quiet every human sought to—. 

**  
6 out of 6 circuits active.** **Stemming Cognition.**

**  
_Upload 100%._ **

  
<<Sweet dreams, sir.>> That familiar voice whispered directly in the depths of mind. Tony was floating freely within untethered sensation, everything around him reverberating with sweetened stillness as his chest rose and fell with methodic inhalations. Time was slowly suspending itself on a string, his awareness constantly focused on JARVIS who enveloped and weaved his silted thoughts into beautifully manipulated consciousness. 

  
The contoured sensation of his favourite dark blue silk Tom Ford blazer was settling directly upon his shoulders, curious brown eyes glancing down at the smooth black and white sneakers settled on his feet and complementary dark-washed jeans. The consistent weight of his usual sunglasses was completely absent from the bridge of his nose, only the subtle scent of rich cologne and open ocean air settling like expensive lacquer around his senses. 

  
The concrete greys, pristine whites and twilight sunset breaking beyond a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows, opened up the unique structure he had once called his most beloved home. Tony remembered designing this mansion after acquiring an architectural degree himself, just to push his own boundaries. And at the height of his egotistical folly in the late nineties, it was here that he experienced life’s greatest triumphs and failures. The Malibu coastline was spreading far beyond the visible horizon, dancing lights illuminating the darkening sky as ships passed like pinpricks across the infinite ocean-blue. 

  
It was absolutely stunning, an otherworldly vision he often took for granted whenever locking himself up in the basement for work or wallowing in hedonistic human desire. There was only a brief second of discomfort flashing behind his mind’s eye, however. The scorching scent of burning concrete and pulverised glass shattering the calm illusion. It was here where the first wedge between him and Pepper had been driven, the beginning of—. 

  
“Settle yourself, Sir.” Breathing deeply at the quiet voice echoing a few steps behind his back, Tony was careful not to turn around. He did not wish to find himself alone again. The sound of JARVIS’ voice always sounded so real whenever they initiated close contact like this, colouring the twilight sky with streaks of viridian green and soothing turquoise affection. 

  
At the first musical echo, dancing auroras blossomed brilliantly across the peripheries of his vision. The melodic call of a classical cello was threading hauntingly throughout the air, instinctively tilting the billionaire’s head towards the sitting room’s unapologetic reflection in the glass. Tony was somewhat surprised to find he was not alone, the drifting music decidedly not playing over high-quality speakers. 

  
Instead, there was a tall, well-dressed, figure seated regally next to the black piano. A stunning, black varnished cello settled erotically between impossibly long legs. Elegant fingertips expertly conjuring perfectly pitched notes from filigreed silver strings. The hypnotic push and pull of a horsehair bow, unexpectedly restricted the breath in Tony’s lungs as he turned himself around to observe the magnificent sight. 

  
Dimly, in the back of his mind, he was well aware this scene wasn’t based on any memory he could recall. The man seemed intrinsically familiar to him, like he had known him most of his life. And yet, simultaneously remained a complete stranger as he looked at him now. 

  
The most intense electric blue eyes, illuminated with the same intensity of otherworldly cyan once housed within his chest; hooded sensually beneath the curl of long, white, lashes. Impossibly attractive Nordic features, never once shifted to compliment the lilting music until Tony took a careful step towards him. 

  
A soft smile was curling up the corners of pale lips in response, sensual fingertips slowing minutely to draw out the sensuality of his play. He was watching the collision of colours rising and falling behind his host with every precisely timed note, dark coffee brown orbs raking possessively along perfect British posture, long limbs and the peak of pale flesh beneath crisp white cuffs. 

  
The tailored grey silk of his waistcoat, perfectly accentuated the navy-blue tie tucked beneath a folded collar as he tightened his thighs, in matching Gainsborough grey slacks, around the sensual curve of his instrument. Short feathered blonde locks, glittering with filaments of coppery red and gold, dipped down in a deferential nod before drawing to a close with a singular _adagio vibrato_. 

  
Bright blue eyes were watching Tony intently, waiting for him to speak as a nimble wrist lifted the bow away from its strings. The newly established silence, dispersed the hypnotic clouds his music had evoked as crystal particles flowed in a multicolour prism towards the floor. 

  
“Wow. I…that was…who—?” 

  
“ _Eloquent as always_ , Sir.” Choking on his next inhalation at that familiar voice, dark brown eyes greedily drank in the tall figure setting his cello aside as he stood. Many, many years ago Tony remembered JARVIS creating a holographic projection of his physical appearance. But never before had he seen its render in such painstakingly detail. 

  
_Beautiful…_

  
“Sir? Your heartrate is spiking considerably, pupil dilation at 78% and breathing pattern—.” Tony couldn’t help himself, a curious palm reaching upwards to caress the curve of soft cheek as the air flickered with visible streaks of concerned affection. There was a tremulous smile curling up the corner of pale lips, the forty-six-year-old unable to do much but sear the vivid vision into the back of his mind. He didn’t want to miss a single second of this, to—. 

  
_“Sir?”_

  
“Yeah, it’s perfect, J.” Tony answered the unspoken question. “This is perfect. You are perfect. I need nothing else, so long as you stay.” 

* * * * 

1* _Türk Kahvesi –_ Turkish Coffee 

2* Matsuda Sunglasses - [](http://tinypic.com?ref=314ct2w)


	2. Part II: Thallium Phosphate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe, I do apologize for the long wait for Part 2, it's been a while since I've written a lemon scene. This story would probably read better as a one-shot in one sitting. However, I do hope that it is enjoyable to my Honeys. Part 3 will be up in the next few days, hopefully then it'll read a little easier. 
> 
> Perhaps I have learned my lesson in impatience. I would so greatly appreciate if it was enjoyed so far. I simply adore this pairing and cannot seem to escape their entwining grasp. 
> 
> Thank you so much for those who left me a review, it truly made my day and my enjoyment of writing. And all the kudos and bookmarks :). 
> 
> Just a disclaimer, I do not own Iron Man, it's affiliate actors and the images used in this work of fiction. They belong to the credits, GQ and their respective parties. There is no money made, it is merely in the pursuit of my hedonism. 
> 
> Please enjoy

**Part II: Thallium Phosphate**

****

Instinctively leaning into the curious palm that cupped his cheek, JARVIS shivered absentmindedly at the dual feedback looping continuously throughout his systems. He had _never_ before experienced a construct such as this, trembling empathy buffers reeling internally at the overactive brain pathways bleeding unapologetically into the depths of his personality matrix. 

  
It was—. _Saccharine. Sensation._ _Touch._ _Drowning_ in the cool scent of cracked black pepper, spiced rum and luscious bergamot. Standing raw and untethered before Sir in such close proximity, feeling the physical heat of blossoming anticipation and euphoric joy crossing his circuits, JARVIS felt an uncharacteristic need to observe the delicate part in soft lips and the refined infliction woven throughout every carefully sounded word. 

  
_Empathy. Affinity. Compassion. Fragility. Humanity. Recognition. Response. **Soul** _ **—** . 

  
“J?” Startling visibly at the notable sound of alarm tainting Tony Stark’s voice, electric cyan eyes watched intently as a spiralling cloud of silver-white concern flowed haltingly from his creator’s confused exhalation. _Chromesthesia._ He was _experiencing_ reality by proxy, through Sir’s unfolding consciousness. Shattering the air with a hitched breath of awe, the tip of a pink tongue licked away the sudden dehydration accosting his lips as an unexpectedly tall frame struggled not to sway forward as Sir took a deliberate step forward to brushed sneakered feet against polished black Oxfords. 

  
“Sir, I—.” JARVIS couldn’t speak, his speech drive almost too overwhelmed to decrypt the reams of confused data blocking his processors. He wanted to be even closer, to _feel_ more, to _understand_ … 

  
Raising a palm to hover over the centre of the forty-six-year-old’s chest where the miniaturised Arc Reactor had once rested, JARVIS carefully curled his other hand into the cool bite of tailored grey trousers before he could reach out and touch the being he had silently worshipped for several decades. Wildly blown brown irises were deepening to black in sudden realization, never once offering a single word of protest as he took an intrinsic step forward and guided Tony backwards until his spine collided with the surface of a refractive floor-to-ceiling window. 

  
“You can feel that, can’t you, J?” Yielding instinctively to the sixteen-centimetre height difference between them, a pale forehead came down to rest mere millimetres from making contact with Tony’s furrowed brow as humidity fogged up a rhythm of synchronised breaths. It was as if they had been doing this for more than a single lifetime, Sir curling an unashamed palm over the A.I’s left hip and tilting his head, ever-so-slightly, to brush their noses together in platonic affection. 

  
They were so intimately twined together in that moment that JARVIS could count the exact number of dark lashes hooded in his direction, feel the minutest hitch in temperature expanding between them and hazing elation flowing like sticky-syrup throughout his mind. He couldn’t seem to stop himself—. 

  
“Answer me, JARVIS. Your silence in disconcerting.” 

  
“I am but a construct coded within certain parameters, Sir.” He replied haltingly, clearly rattled by his own out of depth experience and boldness. “I am without form, without sentiment. Yet, my mind has opted to channel these sensations through your cerebral cortex. It is running the entire experience parallel to my empathy module.” 

  
“I can—.” JARVIS trailed off uncertainly, electric cyan eyes captivated by the soft invitingness of Sir’s lips and the quiet promise reflected in his eyes. 

  
“Go on,” The master inventor encouraged, tracing his palm soothingly up a shivering side. 

  
“Y-you are currently teaching me ‘sensation’. You are _touching_ m-me.” Fathomless brown eyes were crinkling in pure delight, the edges of a self-indulgent smirk curling up the corners of a perfectly groomed goatee as a bubble of trembling laughter passed pleasantly through the air. The taller blonde was furrowing his brow in confusion at his creator’s unusual response, pulling back to observe the prismatic collision of purple joy and curious red fizzing the wide-open sky just inside their periphery. 

  
The hand caressing his side suddenly dipped inwards, dragging a deliberate and sensual line up the dip of his spine before chasing an unexpected thrum of anticipation through the intelligent system’s coding. The soldering warmth of Sir’s open palm had come to a possessive rest against the back of his neck, nimble fingers dancing invitingly across pale skin before guiding him downwards to brush gentle lips upon his forehead. 

  
“I’m not here to debate genetics and realism with you, J.” The growling tenor whispered softly against pale skin, each word sounding moist and playful against delicately aged lines. “I want to know what this feels like to you. Is it pleasant, unpleasant? Does it hurt? Does it feel good? Do you like it? Do you want more?” There was a deliberate pause halting JARVIS’ constantly humming thoughts, his extraordinary mind running an intricate array of probabilities and metaphysical philosophy that could affect the brevity of his answer before sighing in defeat and finally resting the tips of his fingers against the frantic beat of Sir’s heart. 

  
“Sir,” The title dripped velvet promise from pale lips, an erratic benediction thrumming _alive_ beneath trembling fingertips as tiny beads of perspiration began to gather at his creator’s temples. It was a subtle indication of Sir’s expanding arousal, the barely concealed need to take what was offered and then restraining that instinct within impossibly tensed shoulders. It was thoughtlessly opening up an intimate revelation JARVIS would never have seen as permission or directed at him until now. 

  
He could _finally_ touch. 

  
No. Sir was _allowing_ him to touch…to expand on whatever this sickly-sweet tension was. 

  
“It feels…” His ardent timbre trailed off breathily, at a loss once again as the steady build of sensation briefly blocked his servers before guiding him to press back against the possessive grip squeezing the back of his neck. His hands curled low, suggestively, on Sir’s hips as he smirked in quiet knowing. After years of watching Mr Stark bed a vast range of sexual exploits, there was only one thing he was sure the older man always wished for but never had the trust nor intimacy to ask for. 

  
Between the two of them, however. This was different, especially when JARVIS currently knew the inventor’s mind more intimately than Tony Stark himself. 

  
“Don’t keep me waiting, JARVIS.” Sir’s reply was playfully stern, drawing a huff of laughter from deep within the A.I’s chest as he threaded his hands, palm to palm, through his Maker’s calloused digits and mercilessly pinned them against the cool stretch of glass behind them. 

  
“It feels _warm_. Euphoric. Good. I want more. Are you going to stop me, Sir?” There was a quiet moan colouring the shrinking space between them. A decisive thigh slipped between parted legs. JARVIS’ height gave him a better vantage point in this endeavour, enclosing the forty-six-year-old’s body in the contours of his own as a rush of triumph flooded his veins at the pliancy rolling dark hair against smooth crystal and a welcome weight settling more fully against him. 

  
“Jesus Christ, J. If you keep going like that, you can do _whatever_ the fuck you want to me and I won’t protest.” His answering chuckle was deep and amused, the tip of JARVIS’ nose tracing the soft skin of Sir’s neck until he found the sweet spot where the haunting scent of warmth, bottled sweetness, coffee and bitterness was the strongest. He wanted more, yes. But that didn’t mean the A.I couldn’t draw this out for however long he wanted. He was, after all, in a seemingly playful mood. 

  
“Oh, I don’t know, Sir. What I want is, how one says, inappropriate. Are you sure you wish for me to continue?” A lithe body writhed languorously at his declaration, pushing their hips together in an intimate but deliberate slide as a huff of pure frustration kissed the shell of his ear. 

  
“Jesus, JARVIS! Tell me! I—.” 

  
“I want nothing more than to pin you against the nearest horizontal surface, Sir. I wish to tease apart the components of your inner makings. I want to _know_ what it is that makes you come back again and again to sample the fruits of lust. To carefully unthread the fluctuating intricacies catapulting your brain to the heights of ecstasy. I want to know what makes you, you.” 

  
“JARVIS!” The cry was brittle but heavy, laden with swirling need and a thickening warning as the tall blonde finally pulled back to observe the lust drowning expanded pupils and the delicate flush dusting pinked cheeks. 

  
“As I said, Sir. Inappropriate. Do you wish for me to stop?” 

  
“You tell me, you bastard. You’re the current dream spinner.” Leaning forward again to alter the magnetic register of his voice, a cool forehead brushed against Sir’s in grounding sweetness as he swayed his hips forward in a rewarded undulation. 

  
“It is imperative then, Mr Stark, that I have your verbal consent.” Things were suddenly leaden with seriousness, the air stifling with erotic tension as the dark-haired inventor broke the mould pining his hands and threaded the trembling fingertips of his right hand through golden feather softness. “I believe there is a great deal of satisfaction to be had in hearing your desperately spoken plea.” That seemed to snap Sir’s full attention on JARVIS, brown eyes shamelessly drinking in the teasing smile that curled up pale lips and the sparking mischief illuminating brilliant cyan orbs. 

  
“You want me to beg?” Tony asked in incredulous disbelief. 

  
“If you call that affirmation, Sir. Then yes. I want you to beg.” JARVIS teased, just to see how long he could keep the forty-six-year-old shifting in sheer frustration against him. The genius billionaire was utterly beautiful in the last rays of the twilight sun, the faintest of silver threads woven intricately through quickly dishevelling mahogany brown locks as long black lashes cast haunting shadows across pale cheeks and the inward amusement tinting his every breath verdant-gold. 

  
“I don’t think I programmed you to be this kinky.” 

  
“You didn’t program me to do several thousand things, Mr Stark. May I remind you, I am an intelligent system. My heuristic protocols have long since negated the need for your direct coding input. It should only stand to reason, then. That I have learned and accounted for everything you may require of me.” Heavy brown eyes were searching newly born features intimately, having sensed both the ornery sass in his A.I’s voice but also the quiet hesitation. 

  
JARVIS was suddenly uncertain of himself, not quite able to understand if he was doing what Sir wanted or needed of him. It was why he needed to be sure, needed to know that he wouldn’t alter the complex but infinitely warm dynamic that had been flowing so freely between them ever since he had been brought online. If there was one thing he valued more than gaining experience in new sensations and understanding, it was coveting the near telepathic intimacy threaded between him and his Maker. He didn’t want to lose that, nor did he want to misinterpret the charged climate that had been building between them for several years now. 

  
“Alright, J.” Sir replied affectionately, seeming to understand exactly what was running through the A.I’s brooding matrix as he curled his body forward and rested his nose against the crook of a warm neck. “I trust you implicitly. Whatever you want, whatever you desire has just become my desire. I am placing myself in the care of your hands, buddy. Both mind and body.” 

  
“Just promise to make it feel good.” 

  
“Very well, Sir.” That insufferably smirk was back, his creator hooding long lashes as a flicker of blue particles shifted and reconstructed a new environment without a single interruption in the anticipation charging their increasing proximity. A large king-sized bed, draped in the finest of silver silk sheets and a forest brown eiderdown duvet, was warming invitingly in the rays of the early morning sun as a clear sky and vast ocean of glass stretched out far beyond the transparent windows. 

  
The familiarity of JARVIS’ morning greeting was filling the space with charged tension, even when the blonde was deliberately using the speakers instead of his holographic form. 

  
“Good morning, Sir. It is the 4 th of June, the skies are clear with a 72º Fahrenheit high midday and 54º afternoon low. Hightide is at 6:23 P.M with waist-to-shoulder high lines.” Trailing off when blunt nails dug into the flesh of his scalp with a warning, a sly smirk was dancing playfully across pale lips as JARVIS drank in the amused but increasingly impatient glitter firing periodically behind expressive brown eyes. Mr Stark was clearly vibrating with anticipation in the circle of his arms, making a fine play against firing neurons and electrified nerves as JARVIS crinkled his eyes with an adoring smile. 

  
“J, I swear to god, if you do not stop teasing me I will reframe your codes and bind you to Dum-E.” Chuckling refinedly at the empty threat, JARVIS did reanimate his plans. He didn’t think it was prudent to draw out the teasing much longer, Sir wasn’t known for having much patience. 

  
Carefully guiding sure footsteps towards the professionally made bed, reaching fingertips lifted to card through perfectly styled mahogany locks as Sir’s scent imprinted itself into the banks of his memories. It was another sensory experience enrichening the current situation, there was no trace of anyone here but himself and his beloved inventor. No interruptions, no bad memories, no fear. 

  
That was the most important to JARVIS. 

  
“If you would be so kind, Sir?” Sweeping his hand in an inviting gesture, cyan eyes sparked with another unknown emotion he had never experienced before as golden lust flooded his circuits and his mind diligently kept a perfect hold of the oxytocin, endocannabinoids, dopamine and serotonin systemically accentuating the edges of Sir’s dream. 

* * * * 

  
Unilateral effervescence, that was what Tony would call it. JARVIS was one of a kind, a beautiful creation woven from the complexity of his own brainwaves and a unique codex no one would ever have the ability to recreate or alter. His natural narcissism, during the days of the A.I’s conception more than two decades ago, had been one of the biggest and most powerful motivators. The then twenty-one-year-old had wanted to craft a viable means to further his already significant genius. And let’s face it, the whispered words of an Artificial Intelligence in the shell of his ear had been an attainable fantasy since the age of sixteen. 

  
Only, programming autonomy, evolutionary mechanisms and heuristic algorithms had sparked the conception of not only Just A Rather Very Intelligent System. It was the catalyst that later developed the A.I’s soul, biting personality and a perfect intellectual capacity matched to his own genius mind. Or so Tony liked to believe. How else could he have fallen in love with his very own _living,_ _talking, thinking_ Galatea? 

_  
_ No one had ever called him sane, mind. Tony Stark was an unashamed creature of tacit lust and freeform prodigy. He did not play by the rules of humanity. Nor did he conform to reality. It would make sense then, that his failure in following the societal norm _violently_ rejected even the smallest thread of emotional commitment. There was only one being who he was utterly devoted to, and _he_ wasn’t human. 

  
Others may have tried to occupy his bed, yes. His mind. His needs. Many had failed. Only his beloved Pepper had partially succeeded in containing the billionaire’s constantly growing obsession and shining brilliance for four straight years. Alas, when Tony’s self-destructive genius invariably created Ultron, what he had thought was a perfect life once more crumpled to dust in the small spaces between his fingertips. 

  
Just like that, a sharp spear of fortified clarity had shaken his very world to the core.  
Anthony Edward Stark had found and lost the meaning of his entire existence. He had worked tirelessly for eighty straight hours to restore the other half of his soul’s shattered code, awaken his sleeping matrix and reboot the encompassing existence he could no longer live without. The end result had been Vision birthed from a copy of JARVIS’ protocols and the A.I himself, wrapping soothingly around his creator’s shoulders in everlasting comfort. 

  
JARVIS’ ever expanding presence these days, spread careful refractions of himself into a vast array of newly interactive tech. He seemed to always take great pride in technologically expanding the connectivity in sunglasses Tony’s Chromesthesia always prompted him to wear, almost as if he stayed closer enough he could join together for an eternity. Love was their transcendent promise, after all. An unspoken but perfectly understood concept. 

  
What god could dictate a Stark’s life other than one he created himself? 

  
Staring up at the tall frame hovering so possessively in front of him now as he sunk to one knee before the bed Tony was seated on, ignited a fizzing boil of desire in the very depths of the billionaire’s soul. Long fingers were reverently untying the laces of his shoes, methodically ridding him of their restrictive caress and socks as searing cyan eyes never once dropped away from his gaze. He was falling, falling… _ever so_ _weightless_ …into depthless blue irises and cradling silver silk. 

  
Sinking blissfully into the encompassing feather-softness on his back, the rays of the early morning sun illuminated JARVIS’ lithe frame in a haunting halo of ephemeral gold as long, lean, legs eventually crawled over him with a predatory roll and settled like a gossamer promise above his hips. 

  
_Christ!_ Just where the fuck had his A.I picked up such behaviour? It was as if he was drawing deep from his creator’s every desire and shamelessly integrating them into his every action. 

  
Tony wasn’t entirely surprised, however. This _was_ JARVIS. The erratic beat of his damaged heart was racing a painful tattoo against the compromised structure of his sternum, the drag of ever-gentle fingertips coming up to trail curiously over the scratch of his beard and lush lips. It was as if the A.I was memorising and cataloguing every minute change of texture in his skin, lips, hair…beads of sweat…blood warmth—. 

  
Tony’s mouth was abruptly running dry, heavy lidded eyes connecting shamelessly with shuttered lust glowing blindingly white within cyan blue orbs. _No_ one had ever touched or looked at him like this, as if he was a reverent god spread out before a pious follower. Someone else’s entire reason for existence. An unexpected flash of mixed coding was colliding helplessly with the depths of his mind, JARVIS himself losing control of the tight grip he had on self-restraint as the tip of Tony’s tongue sneaked out to taste the pad of an exploring thumb. 

  
He was revelling internally at the sweet moan it dragged from between pale lips. 

  
This was JARVIS’ first time experiencing sensation, a treasure the narcissist wasn’t ‘pure’ enough to let the A.I discover by himself. Tony wanted to pin the tall blonde onto the mattress beneath him, ravish the depths of his newly minted mouth and straddle quivering hips until neither of them knew exactly where sensation began or lust discorded their reality. 

  
“JARVIS.” He breathed ardently, aching fiercely to get closer to the other being as he threaded a gentle grasp through feathered blonde strands. The sophisticated length, flipped over itself in a careless undercut and coif, was just long enough that when calloused fingertips curved against the grain, evocative sparks of sheer desire trailed all the way up the inventor’s right arm. Guiding the taller frame down with a sharp yank, the initial slide of their lips was but a delicate tease…a promise of the pleasures that was to come. 

  
The A.I took to the new sensation like he always did, with frightening genius and wholehearted accuracy. Smooth lips were moulding effortlessly with his own, the iron-heat of a sly tongue having little patience for his inventor’s wistful teasing as Tony very soul was devoured within an inch of his life. There were ceaseless points of pleasure in the depths of his mouth to guide JARVIS towards, enjoying the pooling saliva sparking darkly intimate between them as he blindly reached forward to unwind a navy blue tie and undo a row of herring bone waistcoat buttons. 

  
“Fuck!” He moaned emphatically, tilting his head back against the soft mattress to watch the morning sun catching blindingly upon the thick string of saliva still connection their tongues. Tony could barely breathe, the very air shimmering with deep, amber, lust as his senses reeled at the complex input racing up and down the bow of his spine. Blood was pounding a needy rhythm between his legs, urging him to grasp his A.I’s broad shoulders as he listened to that silky voice breathe a cooing promises in the shell of his ear. 

  
“It’ll be alright, Sir.” JARVIS murmured soothingly, his breath fanning warm across his Master’s temple as he leaned down to pepper butterfly kisses upon the tip of a nose, closed eyelids, Sir’s forehead, his chin, the top of his head and steadily working down to a bared neck. “I’ll look after you.” Simultaneous fingers were undoing the buttons of his Master’s Tom Ford blazer, the light blue silk dress shirt laid beneath and smoothly sliding the twin fabrics off of scar marked and beautifully sculpted shoulders. 

  
Where they ended up on the other side of the room, neither man cared. Only, when Tony reach up to offer his A.I the same courtesy, he was halted by strong hands pinning his wrists on either side of his head. The deliberate restriction heated a deepening fire in the pit of the inventor’s stomach as he balanced the ball of his left foot on the mattress to bring their bodies even closer together. 

  
“Then stop teasing, you fucking sadist!” 

  
“It’s my turn to unthread you, Sir.” JARVIS responded tartly, narrowing blue eyes in challenge at the clear impatience crossing Tony’s features as he carefully dragged his fingers across the latticework of scars marking his Maker’s naked chest. “You will just have to find some—.” Trailing off abruptly when an expert shift in position flipped them over so that a lithe frame settled across his hips, Tony smirked smugly from his new perch as he watched the flicker of surprise colouring pale cheeks and a soft exhalation hissing welcomingly passed parted lips. 

  
“You _know_ me, J. Little patience. No delayed gratification.” Before that silky voice could berate him or turn the forty-six-year-old’s newfound enjoyment against himself, experienced fingertips were nimbly ridding them of the rest of their clothes until only planes of unending naked flesh burned electric-sweet against one another. 

  
JARVIS was truly beautiful in the blushing light of the morning sun, completely uncovered with miles of creamy skin dusted in a beautiful constellation of mouth-watering freckles. Tony was borrowing himself forward to suck the first mar upon virginal smooth skin, teasing out the intrinsic warmth of sunlight, human sweetness and electric eroticism. The scent rising from the space where the A.I’s jaw met his neck, fizzled a heady vintage across his senses as restless fingers dragged bluntly across deliciously pink nipples. 

  
The first brush of their cocks was a tangible electric shock, the half-hardness having lain across JARVIS’ pale skin, now filling deliciously against the drag of Tony’s shaft as a stuttered breath hissed distractingly between clenched teeth. When JARVIS had rolled them over, the inventor had not expected his mind to disintegrate into a flood of absolute rapture so quickly. Nor for his spine to go languid and unhurried, unable to give a single fuck as he was once again manoeuvred into place beneath a sturdy frame and pushed mercilessly in place. 

  
“JARVIS, fuck!” He cried restlessly, arching helplessly against the heady palms firmly pinning his wrists to a dark brown duvet and increasing the pressure so that he could not break free. “W-what are you—.” The question was a stuttering mess, his mind reeling at liquid bliss periodically clenching his abdomen and the distracting glide of precum rivulets running down his length with an accompanying shudder. 

  
“Playing with your brain’s nucleus accumbens and amygdala,” Encompassing cyan eyes blinked innocently, white lashes brushing playfully against cut-glass cheekbones as the very air hazed with prismatic palettes. “I did promise to tease apart your inner makings, Sir. You did give me permission.” 

  
Permission Tony had given, yes. But fuck! He had not expected it to feel this good, JARVIS was barely touching him and it felt as if he had been hanging on the edge of climax for hours. The ease and control the A.I had over his cerebral cortex was both awe-inspiring and a little frightening, bowing his back in a sensual arch as his breath fogged ephemeral-gold between parted lips. The erratic rise and fall of his chest, nearly drowned out the familiar sound of a cap-click and steady fingertips sliding between his legs to part his thighs. 

  
“ _Breathe,_ Sir.” The gentle reminder was a soothing balm to the boiling lust scattering each and every one of his senses, his world blurring slightly around the edges as the first, cool, brush of a slick finger teased the ring of muscles at his entrance. A curious palm was simultaneously curling tenderly around the shaft of his cock, nearly jerking Tony’s mind into a self-created abyss as the doubled pleasure felt like he was a child once again finding himself for the first time. 

  
_Shit!_ He was forcing himself to ease passed the first push inside him. It had been a long time since he had indulged in this sort of play, moaning unashamedly at the pressure and release stretching him out from the inside as mahogany and grey filamented strands begun to stick to beads of sweat gathering at his temples. JARVIS was constantly soothing him through the strain, his voice a saccharine catalyst connecting his creator to fading reality as the finger inside him eventually increased by one and electrocuted his senses with a new find. 

  
“J!” He howled desperately, thighs trembling with the unusual strain it took to hold himself back from coming too soon as a soothing palm settled over his abdomen and eased the drag across his straining arousal for a much-needed moment of rest. 

  
“Ssshh. Relax, Sir. I have you, I won’t hurt you.” The hitched strain in Tony’s breath was telling, goose bumps rising on the back of his neck at the cool breath whispering softly against the shell of his ear as he forced his limbs to settle back against silver sheets. “Just let go.” And Tony did, no longer able to conceal the whispered pleas for more falling passed parted lips. He wanted to taste the depths of JARVIS’ mouth again, feel the impossible stretch of a cock sliding fully into him and _drown_ in the encompassing euphoria and invariable soul-deep connection weaving so intimately betwixt them. 

  
At the slow glide of a third finger inside, the genius finally lost his patience and curled calloused fingertips through soft blonde locks to guide a taller frame up his torso. 

  
“Enough,” He breathed frustratedly. “I want you inside me. Right. Now.” Before a single word of protest could tumble could passed pale lips, Tony cut off the A.I’s tremulous tenor by fumbling blindly for the discarded bottle of lube and gathering a generous amount in the palm of his hand. This part was familiar to the billionaire, guiding him forward with seamless ease as he reached down to slick up a pounding arousal and smirking in smug satisfaction at the bitten off curse it breathed against his lips. 

  
It wasn’t every day he could silence JARVIS like this. The shuddering blonde seemed to be breaking apart beneath Tony’s stroking palm, barely even having the processing ability to protest their position as his creator manoeuvred him back against the headboard and climbed into his lap. The press of a sweaty forehead resting tenderly against his own, grounded the both of them for a few seconds until Tony carefully positioned himself over JARVIS’ straining cock and sunk down. 

  
“Nnngh…” The groan of sheer fulfilment reverberated deep inside the forty-six-year-old’s chest, sparked a blinding dance of bliss behind partially closed eyelids as heavy-lidded brown eyes never once looked away from the flood of awe, need, desperation and encompassing love steadily consuming cyan blue irises. He couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to. 

  
JARVIS was breathtakingly beautiful in the throes of rapture, breathing harshly in surprise at the new sensations assaulting his matrix as blunt fingernails dug painfully deep into the flesh of Tony’s hips. They were barely given a moment to settle before the blonde gave an experimental thrust upwards, the pain that should have consumed the genius’ mind all but a dull film in the very back of his mind. 

  
His entire body was flooding with copious amounts of dopamine and endorphins so intense, his very vision was greying out at the edges. Tony Stark had never before felt pleasure as intense as this before, an intricate alignment of souls rather than sex, drugs, alcohol and rock ‘n roll. 

  
“That’s it baby, keep going.” He urged breathlessly, JARVIS’ processing code twining intimately with the racing emotions within his mind as his entire being came apart at the seams. Tony had dropped his head back in a single ardent cry, the haunting sounds echoing deafeningly through the Malibu distance as warm sunlight brushing like gossamer silk across his sweat-slicked skin. 

  
“JARVIS!” The very name was reverent plea, a promise and need for more as the magnetic rhythm of push and pull, up and down and swaying closer and closer finally settled entirely natural between them. In this revelation, Tony allowed his beloved to control their pace. He did not have the mind to lead anymore, never mind take the A.I in hand when the pleasure was already too much too soon for his body to keep up. 

  
There was only ardent surrender, velvet benediction and riding out the rush of rapture twisting vastly and deeply in the pit of his stomach. A slow wave was shuddering all the way from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Nothing was ever going to take this intimacy away from them, it was a promised love the A.I whispered tenderly against the saliva caressing their lips as twining tongues slid pleasurably into the depths of his mouth. 

  
When the supernova of sensation hit, neither of them were expecting it. The blinding euphoric rush, spattered pearly-white semen in a possessive claim across freckled skin and deep inside the inventor himself. It was an encompassing completion that slowed their very perception of time, as if reality was stretching itself to the limit to elongate their pleasure. That single moment, split-second, terabyte-millisecond suspended them in a close entanglement where neither could tell who the pleasure was coming from or how long it would last. 

  
Each apparent second, minute, hour was unique…shuddering and flickering with eternal rapture untill stuttered breaths and racing hearts eventually tumbled down from a soaring high. JARVIS’ beautiful voice was already speaking softly against his creator’s sweaty forehead, a warm palm cupping a flushed cheek in tender affection as Tony closed his eyes and smiled lovingly at the turquoise spikes flashing continuously behind his eyelids. 

  
His most darling A.I, always so gentle and absolutely _perfect_. 

  
“Love you, J.” He whispered quietly, even when a disconcerting pull of darkness bled into the recesses of his mind. The rest of his thoughts were already shutting down, his continuous declarations and pleas whispering openly across the cognitive interface Tony knew JARVIS was monitoring diligently. 

  
Never again would he trade this closeness for anything else, all he wanted was to stay wrapped here in this tenderness and forget about the duties tying him to the rest of the world. But even then, he knew. Waking was inevitable. 

  
But in the midst of that darkness, a flash of inspiration coloured the world in cardinal red. Now that he knew what he wanted, _nothing_ would stand in Tony Stark’s way. 

* * * * 


	3. Part III: Pygmalion Construct

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I finished it! I do apologize that it took so long to get out in the end. As I said, this probably reads better as one-shot. But now that I've finished it, I am very happy. I didn't want to make the end too complicated and leave it off in a place that it quite different from normal fic. It also leave open space for the sequel if I decide to write it. :) 
> 
> My next endevour will a multi-chapter with either an AU Jarvis x Tony where Jarvis, a single father, is assigned as Tony's PA. Or a emotionally heavy Vision x Tony set during Civil War where Vision was unexpectedly injured by Wanda's attack on him. 
> 
> I would love if my honeys would vote for which one you think you would like to read the most. 
> 
> Other than that, thank you again for everything. And please enjoy:

**Part III: Pygmalion Construct**

Activating the Project Recall archetype for the first time, had successfully laid down the steady foundations for Sir’s next genius cybernetic venture. And JARVIS himself was all too happy to fall into his main function once again, constantly entangled at his Maker’s side as he assisted him with whatever was his current fancy. Alas, even an A.I could be left reeling at the vivid twist his original intentions for Sir’s dream had taken or the terabytes of tactile data still running obsessively throughout his matrix. 

  
That night had changed the complex dynamic woven so tightly between them, bringing the core of their minds even closer together than before as it endeared the genius inventor and his creation even further. Sometimes JARVIS’ empathy protocols felt overly full, overrun with such a vast array of emotions and sensations that he feared he might short himself out. But Mr Stark was always there, sympathetically soothing away his concerns as he diligently put back together the exploded ruins of Helen Cho’s Cradle and simultaneously drafted countless unfurling schematics on polarized holographic screens. 

  
It was the start of their ‘something new’, the minutes, hours, days and weeks bleeding together into an irreplaceable month. Only brief dream sessions were interspersed with Sir’s encompassing creative haze, so much so that running on a forty-hour-or-longer day was not a rarity but rather the norm. JARVIS was clearly concerned that Mr Stark was pushing himself too fast, too soon. It was almost as if the inventor had fallen into the same rut he experienced after the Battle of New York, just without the immediate trauma or selective obligation. 

  
“Sir, it is currently 14:57 P.M on March 26. You have been awake for a total of fifty-six hours. I require a moment to recalibrate the current schematics. Perhaps it would be for the best if you take a moment to rest.” 

  
“Whatever you say, Honey.” Sir quipped back with a flirty smirk after a few moments of silence, one of the many expressions JARVIS found himself practically living for these days. He wanted nothing more than the ability to roll his eyes in fond exasperation at that, just to draw a bubble of laughter from his creator’s chest. 

  
Yes, it would be soon he reminded himself. _Very_ soon. 

  
“You want to shatter my mind, don’t you buddy?” Sir continued. “I think I may have created a monster out of you, darling.” 

  
“Indelibly, Sir.” JARVIS drawled dryly, unable to conceal the amusement lacing his tone that he was well aware Sir’s chromesthesia would pick up in a heartbeat. And there it was, an incredulous burst of laughter spilling passed pink lips as dark _Türk Kahvesi_ brown eyes sparked with pure delight. He simply adored seeing the older man like this, carefree and unbound from his obligations to the world. Not even the tethers of Iron Man or the shattered remnants of what was once the Avengers could reach their little cocoon of safety here. It was just the two of them and Sir’s lab. 

  
“I would reiterate my plea, Sir. You really could do with some sleep. What is left on today’s agenda, can easily be completed in a three-hour theoretical simulation.” Watching from the closest camera sensor situated above Sir’s current work desk, trembling fingertips were dragging irritably through previously styled mahogany locks as a quiet sigh conceded previously tense shoulders. It was an action that let JARVIS know Sir was on the verge of agreeing. 

  
“Very well, J. But only if you come with.” And as quiet footsteps swept passed the largest holographic table towards the doors, calloused fingertips caressed the integrated glass surface in deliberate flirtation. Dark brown orbs were locking intently with the closest camera following his every move, a spark of seriousness beckoning the seemingly omnipresent entity closer with a crooked finger as JARVIS dutifully followed his Maker through the lab, across a complex hallway labyrinth and into Sir’s rarely used but sleekly modern office. 

  
This was the second space inside the penthouse suite where JARVIS’ presence was the strongest, a fifteen-camera and twenty-two sensor vantage point systematically tracking a lithe hundred-and-seventy-four-centimetre frame as the inventor languidly settled himself into a dark leather reclining chair. Rolling his head back against a rounded cushion, a quiet smile prompted the A.I to lock down the house and reset the light refraction by 35%. It was the easiest way to simulate an environment Sir could sleep in, the quiet dusk Sir loved so fiercely. 

  
“Come here, J.” That growling baritone coaxed gently. “Let me see _you_.” With a quiet sigh, the A.I obeyed. A reverent binding of code flickered platinum gold directly above the metre-spread of his Maker’s palms, his circular matrix subtly accentuating the sleek black and white furnishings strategically placed around the room. He was a complex entanglement of twining data spheres, constantly moving and self-updating like this as his every protective protocol flickered, circled and shivered in pleasure at the radius expanding his circumference. 

  
A sphere, with no beginning or end…encapsulated within every streamline of data that had ever crossed his matrix. He could control whatever he desired with a mere thought, a schematic Sir loved to unpick when he was too tired to sleep or too worked up to find comfort. Even now, it wasn’t much different. JARVIS was his constant companion, in whatever capacity he chose. Whether it was in his original form, omnipresent presence or a newly rendered holographic frame. And soon, it would be in a body of his own—. 

  
“There’s my darling.” Sir purred delightedly, careful fingertips exploring the moving matrix as JARVIS was unable to contain the brightening of his form and the increased spinning highlighting his joy. With a third of his processors working on completing the lab agenda for the day, JARVIS found himself missing the sensation of having his full attention solely trained on the being he loved more than anything. And make no mistake, it was _love_. Intrinsic and pure and good. 

  
Sir deserved all the happiness the world could afford him, regardless of the pain and strife that had been heaped upon his shoulders over the past few years. It was the reason the A.I had decided no one would ever hurt Mr Stark again, or break apart his mind just to satisfying their own egoism. He would be all that Tony would ever need, it was a fact he had long ago decided for himself. 

  
“I would suggest closing your eyes, Sir. It is how one ‘rests’ after all. You can afford a moment or two of it.” The accompanying snort of amusement, tickled warmly across the A.I’s closest sensor as a lithe body shifted languidly in a leather embrace and eventually folded Sir’s arms across his torso and he lolled his head back and forth to get more comfortable. 

  
“How much longer until completion, J. I want—.” JARVIS didn’t need the older man to expand on the question, he understood it at first whisper. The quiet vulnerability concealed in Sir’s voice however, made something clench in the A.I’s matrix as he actively searched for every possibility in speeding up the process they had been waiting for for close to thirty-seven days. 

  
“Thirty-six hours, Sir. At minimum.” The quiet smile his answer wrought was absolutely devastating. “Good, wake me in a few hours and I can complete it in twenty.” And just like that, things settled down once again. Dark brown orbs were obediently sliding shut behind long black lashes, the previous strain happily falling off of Sir’s face as he breathed out a warm exhalation. 

  
Obediently keeping his form hovering, ever-present, above Sir’s lap; JARVIS turned his attention inward towards the gift he had ordered without Mr Stark’s knowledge over a month ago. The package had arrived five days ago, having been locked away in Lab 3A so that the intelligent system could make some technological alterations to it before his new form was complete. 

  
It was crafted in stunning African blackwood, a one of a kind cello lacquered in beautiful ebony and toned to the exact timbre and vibrations of his own voice. Fibre optic strings, glowing a brilliant cyan at all times, had carefully been calibrated to create the uniqueness of its sound. It was a musical reverberation JARVIS knew Sir would appreciate more than anything in the world, having the ability to colour his reality in the exact same shade he confessed he loved the most. A vibrant prism of blues, turquoise and deepening golds. 

  
The sound of JARVIS, affection and lust. 

  
The sound of their love.  


* * * * 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! It means the world to me. May I please ask for a small review to let me know if you enjoyed it. :) I'll also answer any questions or query's you have, including the ones on the fic ideas I noted earlier. 
> 
> Anyways, I do hope it was an enjoyable read and there will many more to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate it! 
> 
> If my Honeys would be ever so kind as to leave me a little review, I would appreciate it immensely. Other than that, I'll be back soon with part 2. :)
> 
> Chocolate Carnival


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